Like Ships In The Night
by Listelia
Summary: A fateful enconter on a bench, in a train station...


The young man checked the train board, then his watch. He sighed.

_Next one is at 05:00 am._

_Still 7 hours to wait._

This was going to be a long night, and not at the best place.

The station was cold and smelled of fried oil. Some people were still hanging around, but he wanted to find a quiet corner to doze a bit, as he waited for his train.

He wandered for a while before finding an empty bench aside, under a wooden arch. A bench long enough for him to stretch his _long_ legs. He was going to use his bag as a pillow and snooze for awhile.

He sat heavily on the bench, dropped his bag at his feet and yawned. He massaged his nose, took off his cap. Hand brushed his red hair, then put the cap back on.

He didn't know which one was the worst. Spending time at the barracks or at home. Both could be quite tricky.

- Good fishing spot, good seat and a rod, them the best thing in the world… he thought.

Or morelikely _said_.

- Seems pretty boring, commented a voice next to him.

_Private_ Jack O'Neill almost fell off the bench.

Someone else had also found the place interesting.

He turned to him, thinking of sending to heck the intruder, but changed his mind mid-way.

_It was a kid._

Ten or eleven years old, dressed in a sweatshirt twice his size, with a blue jean rolled on his ankles. Blond hair, skinny, with rond glasses and very serious blue sky eyes.

- It's bad to cut off adults, said Jack.

- You're not an adult, retorted the boy.

The young man laughed.

- I'm still older than you, shrimpy.

The kid glared at him, than huffed.

- Whattya doing here? asked Jack, pulling up the zip on his green jacket.

- Same as you.

- Sure.

_Of course the kid was back from battlefield._

Jack started unlacing his heavy military boots.

- Did you run away from your mom?

Shrug.

- I don't have a mom.

- Well…

Second boot. _Phew…_ He streched his toes in his socks.

- It stinks, said the kid.

- Just take yours off, we'll be even, responded Jack.

The kid hesitated, then bent over to his sneakers.

A huge book fell on the ground and opened wide. Dust sparkled on the tiled floor of the station.

The kid jumped off the bench and picked up the book with precaution. He brushed it with his sleeve, checked the cover like if one more fall could have killed the already worn out book.

- What's that? asked Jack, with a chin gesture.

The boy got up – he looked ready to flee – but decided to sit again.

His feet swang next to the young man's long legs.

- _The Odyssey_, he said after a silence. "It's a gift from my grand-father."

Jack held out his hand.

- Lemme see.

The kid didn't budge.

- Come on, lemme see, I'll be careful.

- Do you _read_ ?

Jack almost swallowed his tongue in front of so much nerve.

- Are you kidding me? I'm 22, smartie-pants.

The kid looked terribly sceptical.

- All right, I _promise_. I'll be careful.

Again some hesitation.

- I keep my promises, y'know. Always.

One last test look, then the book was laid on his lap.

Jack opened it delicately.

It _was_ an old book. Pages were cracking a bit, the inside was yellow and smelled of something _hushed_.

- What's about?

- It's the story of a man who goes to different worlds with his friends. He'd like to go home, but I think he sorta have lost his way.

Jack passed his hand on the worn out cover.

- Maybe he doesn't really wanna go home, he murmured. "Maybe he feels good with his friends…"

Shrug.

Then the kid leaned to turn the pages till he found a boat drawing.

A drill of hair tickled Jack's chin.

_What about you, littl' guy? You don't wanna go home either, isn't it?_

He wasn't feeling like sleeping anymore.

- This is his best friend, explained the kid, pointing at a scary character on the picture.

- They aren't very good at drawing, commented Jack. "So, tell me. This is _not_ English."

The kid shook his head.

- Uh-uh. It's greek.

- You - read - greek ?

- I'm learning, said the kid laconically.

Jack's eybrows had raised so high, they were disappearing in his hair.

- Oo-kay.

He pushed back to book to its owner.

- Thirsty? I'll get me a drink. You want somethin'?

Shrug, yet again.

_No way to know if he wasn't interested or if no one had ever asked him such a question._

Jack walked in socks to the vending machine and flipped the coins in his palm.

- Well, then… Fate decided for us, kiddo.

He brought back two cans of hot coffee and sat back on the bench, next to the boy.

- Only coffee left, sorry.

- I'm not allowed to drink coffee, said the boy, staring big at the can.

- Well, today yes, said Jack.

He put the second can on the bench and opened his, before taking a long sip.

- Ah… Good… it's cold in here.

He glanced at the kid and smirked.

The boy had picked up the can and after taking off the top with ceremony, was now drinking very seriously.

- Bitter, he muttered, catching the look.

- You like? asked Jack. "Lemme tell you if you turn into a freackin' mouse 'coz of the caffeine, I'll move out."

Giggle.

_Pure. Unintentioned. Childish._

_-_ Ha. You do laugh.

- Everyone does, cringed the boy, annoyed.

_Not really, ol' fellow._

_Some people have forgotten how to smile, in the big world, you see._

_And for a moment, I thought you were already one of them…_

He had an other sip.

- So. How does the story end?

- I dunno, said the kid with his serious eyes on him.

Jack stayed quiet for awhile, then he smiled.

- We have all the time of the world to find out. By the way, name's Jack.

* * *

Colonel O'Neill chuckled to himself, softly.

- Ha. A happy thought. Put it in your pocket till Sam finds out how to make fairy powder out of naquadah.

Daniel was standing next to him, his breath freezing like a little cloud. He held out a coffee mug from the mess. O'Neill took it gratefully.

- It's bitter, but at least it's warm, said Daniel, sitting by his friend. "The night's cold."

- True. But we can best watch stars with such a weather, commented O'Neill, looking up to the dark vault where sparkled a million worlds.

Daniel had a sip of coffee.

- So? he asked after awhile. "What was that nice thought about?"

O'Neill grumbled happily.

- I knew you couldn't help asking!

Daniel laughed with him.

O'Neill drank some coffee.

- I just remembered something. Long ago, one night…

He softly told the story of his encounter with the boy.

- We spoke just like that, all night, he concluded. "I must have fallen asleep at some point, because he wasn't there, when they woke me up for the train, the next morning."

Daniel didn't say a word.

O'Neill smiled to himself.

- Stuff like this, coming back all of a sudden. Silly… I can't even remember the kid's name, y'know.

- Daniel.

He turned to his friend, puzzled, and met his gaze.

Sky blue eyes, very serious, and rond glasses.

- Daniel, repeated the young archeologist. "The kid's name was Daniel, Jack."


End file.
